Bittersweet Entanglement
by LadyTrampleton
Summary: A dream exacerbates those feelings that neither Denmark nor Sweden wish to accept. Despite all the mistakes of the past, they still hate and love with fierce passion. Two-shot and rated M for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

A dream exacerbates those feelings that neither Denmark nor Sweden wish to accept. Despite all the mistakes of the past, they still hate and love with fierce passion. One-shot and rated M for a reason.

_It was raining, droplets slashing on the dark ground and stinging the skin. Denmark raised a hand to wipe away the water from his face. He was covered in dirt and was freezing cold, but he would not shiver. That would show weakness. He was dressed in trousers and a torn shirt, his hair pasted to his face. He wore no shoes and the gravel underneath his feet bit into his toes. It was as if he had been in a fight, but he had no axe in his hand. Wherever he was, there were no buildings or landmarks, only endless clouds and dirt. He felt angry, but he didn't understand why. _

_A figure loomed ahead, his back turned. He was tall with short hair. Denmark's anger flared when he saw the man. He clenched his fists and began to run, but found he could not catch the man. He snarled as his feet slapped the ground and the rain began to drip from his nose. _

_He knew this man. He recognised the strong back and the set of the shoulders. This man belonged to him. The anger continued to build in Denmark's chest. Why wasn't he here by his side? That's where he belonged, he was Denmark's bitch. And a bitch should know their place._

"_Sverige!" he shouted, still running, "Get your ass back here now! Where the fuck do you think you're going?"_

_The figure walked away, blue coat flapping in the wind. He didn't turn to answer. Somehow he managed to walk away, despite Denmark sprinting in the rain. He snarled again and ran faster, desperate to catch the nation._

"_Sverige? Sverige! I said get back here! Bitch get over here now!"_

_Still no answer. The man strode away, boots stomping on the ground as he faded into the distance. The rain grew heavier, slapping against Denmark's skin and leaving bruises._

"_Don't fucking ignore me! Get back here now! Sverige! Sverige!"_

"Sverige!" Denmark roared as he bolted up in his bed. Gasping and panting for breath, Denmark realised where he was. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his hair was stuck to his neck and forehead. He had shredded his pyjama shirt and bed sheets in his sleep, ribbons of cotton in his clenched fists. The sheets were twisted and knotted about his legs. Denmark sighed and shook his head as his heartbeat calmed. Another dream about Sweden leaving him.

"Shouting at him never worked, you know," came a familiar, deadpan voice.

Denmark raised his head to find Norway leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and his face blank. He wore his usual uniform, complete with beret and hairpin. His eyes were emotionless, yet managed to bore into Denmark's own blue orbs. Guilt and irritation bloomed in his chest.

"I know," Denmark sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What is it Nor?"

"Your meeting is in two hours. Get moving," Norway snapped before walking off.

With a sigh Denmark slowly pulled himself out of bed. He stumbled into his bathroom and leaned against the sink. He could already feel his mood turning black, his thoughts roiling and crashing within his skull. He was supposed to meet with Sweden to discuss the Oresund Bridge and other matters that Denmark didn't really care about right now.

"Fucking Sverige," Denmark spat, gripping the porcelain until his knuckles were white. He could feel the rage and hate coiling within his body. The nation still made his blood boil, even after all these years. That day when Denmark had found Sweden's room empty, he had destroyed half his house in pure unbridled anger. It hadn't been enough to quell his rage; he'd ended up destroying half his forests and several towns. All because of Sweden, because the nation didn't understand that he was Denmark's, and that was how it should have been.

Denmark snarled as he thought of Sweden. He would be playing happy families with Fin, acting like he was a gentle giant and a caring soul. Denmark knew the truth; he knew Sweden's real nature. They were fucking Vikings! They'd conquered the Northern world, raping and pillaging wherever they went. That was who Sweden really was, and he'd traded that for a boring life with Fin! But worst, he's simply left... packed his things and LEFT Denmark without a word. Denmark was the eldest brother and he told the others what to do. No one defied him, no one!

Pain flared in his fist and arm. Denmark looked up. He had punched the mirror. Glass was embedded in his knuckles and his blood dripping into the sink.

_Fucking Sverige..._

0o0

The sun had just begun to set as Sweden arrived home. He sighed as he closed the front door. The meeting with Denmark had devolved into a fight. Making his way into the living room, Sweden ran a hand over his face. The swelling had gone down during the drive home, but there were still scratches and he had a split lip. His hands were sore from fending off Denmark's punches, blood caked his fingernails. Sweden had sensed Denmark's bad mood when he arrived for their talk, but hadn't realised just how angry the nation was. Denmark was always unpredictable; he would never change. A reason Sweden had left him all those years ago.

Sighing, Sweden bent to pull off his boots. He sucked in a breath as pain flared in his stomach and across his back. Hanatamago suddenly appeared at his feet, sniffing his knuckles and whining. Sweden tried to give him a reassuring stroke, but he bounced away. Sweden assumed it was the smell of blood that made the animal jittery.

The sounds of Finland cleaning floated through the walls. Sweden lessened his scowl, fearful of Fin getting the wrong idea. He'd learned to keep his face clear of emotion around the small nation. He didn't want the man running away in fear. He was the only solace Sweden had.

"Su?" called Finland, poking his blond head around the kitchen door. His eyes widened at the sight of Sweden. "Oh my goodness, what happened?"

"Denmark," Sweden grumbled. He succeeded in removing his boots and slowly he took off his blue coat, wincing at the pain that flared from his arms and hands. Denmark had been exceptionally rough on his arms this time.

"I'll get the first aid kit," Fin called. As Sweden sat down on the sofa – which earned him another flare of pain from his back – Finland appeared with a small green box and bandages in his hands. Sweden went to take the box, but Finland slapped his hands away, making him wince again.

"What set him off?" Finland asked, dabbing anti-septic treatment on Sweden's knuckles. Sweden grimaced at the burning liquid, but was grateful. He didn't want the wounds to get infected.

"No idea. Was brooding all meeting then flipped."

Finland made a non-committal sound as he wrapped the bandages around Sweden's hands. "There you go." He placed a delicate kiss on the bandaged knuckles. "Don't dwell on Denmark; he can't get to you here."

"Nn," Sweden grunted. He was dwelling on it. It had plagued him for the entire journey home. It wasn't just the violence that annoyed Sweden. Denmark still thought and acted as if he had claim to Sweden and how he should act. Sweden began to grind his teeth in frustration. Denmark was arrogant, bossy, controlling and demanding... all reasons why Sweden had left. Yet Denmark still clung to the past and acted as if Sweden was in the wrong. He needed to wake up and realise they were not living in the past. Anger coiled in his stomach. What would it take to make Denmark forget the past?

"What do you want for dinner?" Fin asked, beaming his cute smile and breaking Sweden's train of thought. Normally it would work but today... Sweden needed to expel some energy. Thankfully he had a good excuse. He pushed himself off the sofa and made his way to the bedroom.

"Gym night," he called over his shoulder, searching for his sports bag. He'd take aggression out on the gym equipment rather than the trees outside. They had enough firewood to last for a year.

"Oh sorry, I forgot," Finland said still smiling. "I'll make you something small for when you get back."

"Thanks Fin," Sweden muttered. He swung his gym bag over his shoulder and headed out.

"Love you."

"Love you too."

_Fucking Denmark..._

0o0

Gulping down his sports drink, Sweden made his way into the locker room. It was incredibly late and the gym was due to close soon, thus Sweden had been forced to stop earlier than desired. His blue jogging pants and vest top were soaked with sweat. His face was red and a drop sweat trickled down his temples. He had undergone a brutal workout, almost breaking the rowing machine with his anger. He'd attacked the cross-trainer, the bike machine and the treadmill, but he could still feel the simmering rage from the meeting with Denmark. That man had gotten under his skin and wouldn't let go.

Sweden tossed his empty bottle in the bin. He pulled out his gym bag from the locker and placed it on the stall. Movement caught his eye. A figure stood by the lockers further down, grey jogging pants and red T-shirt. Sweden glared; anger instantly re-boiled in his chest. He should have known he would be here.

"Back for more Den?" he barked, roughly unzipping his bag.

Denmark's face was red from exertion, his right eye black and his forearms criss-crossed with cuts. He was scowling, arms crossed as he leaned against the lockers. His eyes followed Sweden as he collected his gym bag and pulled out a towel. The stalemate remained for several moments, eyes locked in combat, both daring the other to move first.

Eventually, Denmark moved closer. He wore a snarl, his fists clenched at his side. "You're a dick Sverige," he spat. He stood a pace away from Sweden.

"You're an asshole Denmark," replied, anger resurfacing.

"I hate you."

"I-"

Suddenly Sweden was pushed against the lockers, Denmark's body roughly slamming against his. Teeth clacked together, lips caught in the cross-fire. Sweden's spilt lip from earlier burst again and blood trickled into his mouth. Hands made their way under his shirt and clawed his chest, leaving deep gouges. Another hand raked through his hair, tugging painfully at his scalp. His glasses were knocked from his face and skittered away on the floor.

It took a moment for Sweden to realise what was happening. When he came to his senses, he pushed back, forcing Denmark down onto the stalls. He tore the T-shirt from Denmark's shoulders and raked his nails down his back, leaving new cuts on Denmark's already scarred back. With narrowed eyes, Denmark fought back, his hands clawing at Sweden's waist and back. In the ensuing struggle, Sweden was the victor, landing atop Denmark. Hips bucked and grinded against each other, teeth clacked together and lips locked in a passionate and violent kiss.

"I hate you Den," Sweden growled as he pulled back for air. "I hate what you do to me."

"You left me," Denmark snarled under him, his hand gripping Sweden's neck painfully.

"You were an asshole then, and you still are now."

"You never said why."

"Didn't need to."

"I hate you. I hate you so fucking much!" Denmark's fist connected with Sweden's cheek, then pulled him down by his hair for a harsh, lip-crushing kiss.

Sweden fisted Denmark's hair and yanked him to the side, exposing his neck. He sank his teeth into the soft skin, leaving red and purple marks in his wake. Denmark moaned and wrapped his legs around Sweden's waist, pulling his T-shirt into pieces and throwing the fabric to the floor. In response Sweden tugged down Denmark's jogging pants with his free hand, leaving them at mid-thigh. Denmark copied his actions and yanked down Sweden's pants and underwear with urgency. Without preparation or warning, Sweden forced himself inside. Denmark cried out at the intrusion, his legs clenching around Sweden's waist and his eyes squeezing shut.

A moment passed and neither nation moved. With narrowed eyes, Sweden began to rock his hips, gritting his teeth at the tightness. The pain only made Denmark's fervour grow; he bit down on Sweden's shoulder, drawing blood that dripped down his chin.

Nails scratched and left deep gouges over white skin. Teeth snapped and drew blood. Sweat trickled into open wounds, stinging and burning. Ragged gasps and cries echoed throughout the room. It was rough and uncaring. It fed the raging fires within their souls. It was exactly what they craved.

"I hate that I can't forget you," Denmark growled, his hips snapping up to meet Sweden's thrusts.

"I hate that I still bear the scars from you," Sweden answered, pumping his hips faster.

"I hate that you chose Fin over me."

"I hate what you made me."

Underneath the anger, the insults and the disdain, neither nation could deny they wanted this type of connection. Years of history together, as Vikings, empires and enemies... to be so close, but so far apart, it hurt. The aching want and need was still there after all years of enforced separation, no matter how hard they tried to ignore or forget. Something deep inside always pulled them back to each other, something lodged in their chests that flared when they were together and ached when they were distant. It could be beautiful, it could be love...

But it was marred by bitterness and pride.

"I own you Sve," Denmark breathed, clutching Sweden's back and shoulders painfully. "Whether you like it or not, there's a piece of you that Fin will never understand. You'll never be free of me Sve."

"And you'll never be able to let go of me, even though I don't need you," Sweden gasped, nails digging into Denmark's hip.

Their free hands interlocked as the pressure built until Sweden came with a loud grunt. Demark snaked a hand between their bodies, roughly stroking himself to completion. When it was over, they lay entwined against the wooden stall panting for air, the anger and lust sated but not completely satisfied. Sweden stood, wiping the blood and sweat from his face. Denmark rose slowly and tugged on a jacket from a nearby peg, hiding his torn shirt. He ran a hand through his messed hair. Regret, resentment and longing hung thick in the air, emotions that neither nation would dare to admit.

"How many times has it been Den?" Sweden grunted as he pulled on a clean jumper over his shredded chest. He found his glasses and pushed them into their proper place. "How many times are you going to follow me here and try to win me back?"

"Until it works," Denmark called over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

"You know that will never happen."

"...see you next week."

"...sure."


	2. Chapter 2

Note: After uploading this new chapter, I received a complaint regarding the rating and was threatened with a report to the admins and the deletion of my account. Obviously I do not want my account deleted, and as such I have edited my fanfic. If anybody wishes to read the non-edited version, it can be found here (take out the spaces and add the usua : / / in front of my name):

ladytrampleton . /art/ Bittersweet-Entanglement -II- 318182518

Whichever version you read, I hope you enjoy! ^_^

* * *

><p><em>The sky was grey and over-cast, plunging the city into gloom. As far as the eye could see, everything was grey, bleak and heavy with fore-boding. The clouds swirled and twisted, blotting out any warmth and sunlight with their battles. Buildings were empty and the plaza where Sweden stood was devoid of life, apart from one figure. The man stood with his back towards Sweden, blue shirt and trousers dancing slightly in the cold wind. Despite the gloom and his bad eyes, Sweden knew the figure's clothes were blue. The wind whipped at his face and stung his cheeks, his glasses offering little protection. He felt cold despite wearing his thick winter coat, gloves and thick boots; numbingly cold that spread to his bones. <em>

_The figure tilted his head upwards, but his face was hidden by his hat. Sweden heard the figure sigh. The feeling of fore-boding grew stronger and Sweden's heart twisted. Yet he refused to show his trepidation or anxiety. He was strong, he was hard like steel, he was unbreakable. Words on the wind reached his ears._

"_I know what's going on Sve."_

"_Hmm?"_

"_You and Den, I know. I know everything."_

"_Nn."_

"_That's all you have to say?"_

"_Will you tell Fin?"_

"_I should. I should fly over there in a rage and tell him what you and Denmark get up to every week at the gym. I should pretend to be outraged that you two are fucking again, despite your promises and assurances that you would never do so as long as you lived."_

"_Please don't Nor."_

_Norway's blue eyes swung towards Sweden, piercing blue that almost made him shiver. He tried to return the stare, but could not meet Norway's accusations. His gaze fell to the ground. Quiet words found his ears again, muffled by the wind._

"_I won't, because I don't really care. But you'd had better end this affair with Denmark before I decide to feel spiteful."_

_The wind blew harshly from behind Norway, hitting Sweden in the face with a slap and threatening to pull his coat from his shoulders. Still, he did not move. Norway's eyes narrowed at him, as if peering into his soul. He stood, arms folded and looming as only Norway could. Sweden was reminded of the old days, when Norway was just as brutal as he and Denmark. As Sweden turned to leave, he heard his final warning._

"_Don't let him ruin you again Sve."_

"_I know Nor... I know..."_

Sweden sighed as the memory repeated in his mind. Hot water pounded against his skin, finding its way into his many cuts and scratches. He leaned his head forwards against the slick tiles, letting the water stream down his face and wash away the sweat. His wounds stung as the water hit, causing him to wince but he suffered it. It was a form of punishment for losing control and succumbing to those urges he tried so hard to repress whenever Denmark was around.

There had been at yet another meeting this day and Sweden had managed to escape for some air, only to find Norway had followed him. After their exchange, Denmark had found Sweden and had started a conversation with his fists. Eventually, the other nations managed to pull them apart, but not before Sweden had given Denmark a black eye and many bloody cuts. With his anger stoked, Sweden had left for the gym and spent many hours on the various equipment.

Now he was alone in the gym shower, moisture hanging in the air and his head much clearer. Emotions that had previously been rattling inside his head lay dormant for now, although one kept creeping towards the surface.

"_Don't let him ruin you again."_

Sweden knew Norway meant well, he knew enough of the nation to look past the coldness and see the true meaning of his words. Norway was a close friend and knew full well what life had been like living with Denmark. Yet... his words stung more than they should have.

Because they were true.

A hand suddenly grabbed Sweden's neck and pinned him against the shower tiles. The coldness of the tiles stung his cheeks and hot breath tickled his neck. Another hand appeared next to his face. In the steaming cubicle, he could barely see the features of his attacker. He grit his teeth and tried to push back, but the man pinned him to the wall with his body. Water streamed into Sweden's face, making his poor vision even worse. The slippery tiles gave little purchase and he was forced up onto his tiptoes. He felt his attacker smirk against his skin and he shuddered.

"Miss me Sverige?"

0O0

"See you next week," Denmark said, with a smirk as he stepped into his underwear.

"No you won't," Sweden replied, groping for a towel he had placed nearby. Sweden felt dirty, despite washing twice. Denmark's touch always made him feel soiled. He heard Denmark laugh.

"You'll be here."

"I mean it Den, this is over. Norway knows." Sweden wrapped his towel around his waist and stepped out slowly, his vision still impaired.

Denmark hesitated for a moment, before shrugging and tugging a shirt over his head, careful to avoid his bruised eye. "So what? Nor doesn't care who I fuck so long as I go back to him." He turned and fixed Sweden with a stare. "I get it Sverige, you're feeling guilty about Fin, that's all."

"This. Is. Over." Sweden stated.

Denmark snorted as he tugged on his trousers and slipped into his shoes. "Very well Sverige. Just remember, when you get bored and you want a real man, come find me."

"Fuck you Den."

"Later Sve," Denmark replied with a wink, sauntering from the gym locker room.

Sweden was left alone with a heavy heart and a bitter taste.

0O0

After dinner, Sweden found himself sitting on the sofa with Fin snuggled against his side watching a very boring documentary on whales. He wasn't really paying attention to the television; he was stroking Fin's soft hair, watching him from the corner of his eye. Finland was drifting in and out of sleep, yawning and snuggling closer to Sweden's chest. He was so beautiful, so angelic... there wasn't a time when Sweden didn't think Finland was beautiful. Hanatamago lay at the bottom of the sofa, also drifting in and out of sleep. Sweden glanced at his watch. It was late, maybe they should all go to-

Suddenly the door bell rang a loud chime that echoed throughout the house. Sweden frowned, who would be calling this late at night? At side his, Fin yawned and sat up rubbing his eyes.

"Who could that be?" he mumbled sleepily, which Sweden found adorably cute.

"I'll get it, stay here," he said, not wanting to disturb such a pretty sight. With a slight wince, Sweden stood and made his way to the door, his mind racing. Who would be calling this late at night? Maybe someone had broken down and needed to use their telephone? But they were off the main road and their house was the only one this far down the track. Whoever it was had deliberately sought them out.

He opened the door and his heart sank.

Standing with a large coat and scarf wrapped around his neck was Denmark, his hair sticking up at different angles and his hands shoved into his pockets. Despite the black eye, he wore his usual smirk as he stood on the doorstep. The fact that he was here violated their unspoken arrangement; Denmark would never turn up at Sweden's house and Sweden wouldn't tell Norway what was going on again. Those were the rules, even if Norway knew. Denmark always pushed boundaries, he was never satisfied.

Sweden glared at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Is that any way to talk to me Sverige?" Denmark asked, feigning hurt as he raised a hand to clutch his heart.

"You know you're not welcome here," Sweden spat as he stepped forwards, ready to throw Denmark from his doorstep.

"Careful Sverige, Fin doesn't like it when you're mean," Denmark warned with a smirk as Fin came to the door.

"Oh Denmark. Is everything alright?" Fin asked as Sweden struggled to contain his anger.

"Yeah everything's OK Fin. I just need a copy of some papers and I thought while I'm around, I'd drop by to see if you had some."

"I might do, what are you after?"

"The world meeting next month, I'm missing item six on the agenda, you wouldn't have a spare would you?"

"Let me check, I think I might have an extra," Fin muttered as he turned and walked towards the living room.

Sweden was left alone with a gloating Denmark. His anger from before returned tenfold.

"You're not supposed to come here Den, you know that!" Sweden hissed.

"You don't want me here?" Denmark asked, feigning his innocence again. "After everything that we've done together?" He sniffed and pretended to wipe away a tear.

Sweden swung at him with a fist, his rage boiling over but Denmark dodged effortlessly, twisting his body away.

"Get the fuck away from my family Den!" Sweden spat, which made Denmark laugh.

"I just wanted to see what you've traded me for," Denmark replied, eyes wandering over the structure of Sweden and Finland's house. "Very cosy looking home, almost the perfect family setting. I expect to see kids playing around the hearth... how fake. You traded adventures and battles for this? Guess Fin has you by the balls eh Sverige?"

Sweden narrowed his eyes at Denmark and clenched his fist. "You're the fake one Den. Still looking into the past and wanting to re-live your supposed 'glory days'? We live in the 21st century now, no one's fighting anymore, just you who can't seem to understand that the world's changed and left you behind."

Denmark narrowed his eyes and smirked as he leered closer to Sweden's face. "The world has changed Sve, but we're still the same. I know you; I know what you were like all those years ago, same as me and Norge, out conquering and taking anything we wanted. We were feared by everyone and that reputation still exists today. You seriously expect me to believe this is what you are now?" He gestured towards the front room with a wave of his hand. "Cosy fires, hot chocolates and snuggles? Please. We're warriors; we live for passion, violence and bloodshed. Sooner you stop kidding yourself, the soon-"

Sweden slammed his mouth against Denmark's silencing his words. Teeth clacked together, sending jolts of pain along his jaw. He ignored the pain and roughly grabbed the back of Denmark's hair, preventing him from pulling away. Denmark was surprised for a moment, before harshly pushing back, grabbing hold of Sweden's neck with a cold hand. They kissed violently for several moments until Sweden wrenched free. A train of spittle and blood connected their mouths, which snapped and landed against Denmark's chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, smirking in his usual annoying way.

Eyes glared at each other, neither one wanting to admit defeat. Footsteps sounded from the house and Fin appeared, his nose in a set of papers. The atmosphere was thick as Denmark's lips curled into a sneer but somehow Fin didn't pick up on it.

"Here Den, the document you needed," Fin said cheerfully, arm outstretched.

"Thanks Fin, knew I could rely on ya," Denmark replied, the sneer turning into a small smile as he took the papers. He folded them up and put them under his arm.

"Oh, what happened to your lip?" Fin asked, his voice laced with concern.

Sweden's heart twisted and flipped in his chest. Denmark only needed to mutter a few words and it would be over. Fin would know everything; the life they had built together would end, the family he had built would be snatched away. He would lose everything because of Denmark. He would never know happiness because he couldn't give up this demon. Norway's words returned to haunt him... Denmark would ruin him... and he allowed it to happen...

"Cracked 'cause of the cold. It's always doing that this time of year," Denmark lied with ease. His eyes bored into Sweden's and the corner of his mouth curled upwards.

_You owe me, _that look said. Sweden bristled.

"Oh, would you like some Vaseline?"

"Nah its OK Fin, I'll be off. See you later." With a wave, Denmark turned and walked towards his car. Fin waved as he got in, started the engine and zoomed off, tyres screeching on the tarmac. Sweden stared at the fading silhouette, a mixture of relief and trepidation twirling in his gut.

"He's always so reckless," Fin muttered as he pushed the door closed. "I wonder why he was in the area so late? What do you-"

Finland's words were cut off as Sweden slammed him against the door, lips crushing against the smaller man, hands holding him tightly by the waist. Finland squeaked in surprise, giving Sweden access to his mouth. He darted his tongue inside, tasting faint traces of their dinner. Finland's body melted into his arms and the smaller man returned the kiss in his usual shy yet understanding way.

_Another shade of blond, _Sweden thought as he ravished Finland's mouth. _A different colour of eye. One soft, the other harsh and brutal. But I don't care about that. I need them both..._

_...and I hate it._


End file.
